Fidelis
by Catherine Cook
Summary: What would happen if somebody gave Severus Snape a Beanie Baby? No, really!
1. Meet Fidelis

(Standard disclaimer: Jo Rowling owns everyone here but Barr and Fidelis. CC)  
  
**Meet Fidelis  
  
**  
  
It was the morning of the first day of classes for the Hogwarts year, and newly-minted fifth-years Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley were walking briskly to their first class, trying to conduct a heated argument while keeping their voices from being overheard.   
  
"Have you gone _insane_, Hermione?", Ron hissed, softly yet fiercely. "Do you really think a stupid Muggle plush toy is going to make Snape go easier on us this year?"   
  
"It's not just _any_ plush toy," Hermione retorted through clenched teeth. "It's a Beanie Baby, and you and Harry _both_ admitted it was _adorable_."   
  
"Well, that's because we're human," Ron growled as they turned a corner. "The jury's still out on that as far as Snape's concerned. I'm just glad you didn't put our names on the note you left with the thing."   
  
Hermione's face turned crimson with barely-controlled rage. "I _lef_t the _names_ off, _Ronald_ James _Weasley_, so that he wouldn't think we were trying to _toady_ to him. I want this to be something he can enjoy without _worrying_ about who might be trying to curry _favor _with him."   
  
Before Ron could reply, Harry clapped his hands over both their mouths. "Hush up, you two. We're going to be late for Flitwick's class if we don't move it. Come on!"   
  
===  
  
Professor Severus Snape, head of Slytherin house, Potions master of Hogwarts, and would-be amateur sleuth, frowned in thought as he studied the small, anonymously-sent package on his desk.   
  
Snape had left it unwrapped as a challenge to himself; he wanted to see how much he could divine of the package's contents, and of its sender, before he actually opened it. He had already been reasonably sure that it came from Hermione Granger, that well-meaning but wooly-headed Gryffindor busybody who was close to Harry Potter. A quick dusting with Glow-Print powder confirmed this; the fingerprints on both package and envelope matched those on one of her essays from last year.   
  
Snape's mouth made what passed for a smile with him. He then turned his attention to the text of her message.  
  
**Dear Professor Snape,  
  
I hope you like this little gift. I saw him in a shop and thought you might like him.  
  
With best wishes for the coming school year,  
  
A Friend**  
  
_Oh, this was so like Granger_, he thought, sitting back in his chair. _She wanted to do something nice for that nasty old Potions master, but she didn't want to look like a brown-nosing little suck-up. _ He snorted in derision. _I wonder what she could have given me, _he thought abstractedly._ Perhaps a small dragonette, or a snake. She called it "him", in any event. Best be on my guard when I open the parcel; it would be just like her to give me something she didn't realize was dangerous._  
  
Snape took out a small knife and held it in his left hand, while he held his wand in his right. Carefully, he cut the box open -- and then laughed out loud.  
  
For there, in the middle of the box, looking up at him with winsome (albeit lifeless and plastic) brown eyes, was a perfect miniature rendition of a King Charles spaniel puppy.  
  
Throwing caution to the wind, Snape pulled the stuffed puppy-toy out of the box. _Ah, it's a Muggle toy,_ he thought, seeing the little heart-shaped paper tag attached to its left ear. _Ty Beanie Baby, whatever that means._ He felt the shifting weight of the toy in his hand; it must be stuffed with dried beans of some sort, he realized, hence the name.  
_It does give the toy a rather fluidly realistic look and feel_, he grudgingly admitted.  
  
Snape read the tag, which informed him that the Beanie Baby's name was "Regal". _Hah,_ he snorted to himself. _How distinctive - not. That's a name no doubt shared by a few thousand other little toy dogs that came off the assembly line at that Muggle factory. _  
  
Holding the small toy dog in the palm of his hand, he came to a decision, which he announced, aloud, even though he felt a tad ridiculous for doing so:  
  
"Henceforth, little dog, your name is Fidelis."  
  
==================  
  
The next few days saw Professor Snape becoming absurdly attached, somewhat against his will if not his better judgement, to that odd collection of beans and fabric. At one point he ran Fidelis through a battery of tests to ensure that there were no magical booby traps on him, no Imperius-curse variants. The small stuffed dog passed every test.  
  
_Damn that Granger girl_, mused Snape sheepishly one evening as he sat at his desk, grading student essays. _She has a talent for finding the chinks in one's armour and exploiting them,_ he thought, half in exasperation and half in admiration. His gaze, as it so often did lately, fell on Fidelis' silent form; Snape used the plush toy as a paperweight, humorously ordering the tiny, inanimate dog to stand guard over his property while he was at his classes. Fidelis did not object.  
  
Snape was waiting for Headmaster Dumbledore, who had an appointment with him at nine o'clock to discuss his spy work. Several persons at Hogwarts knew that Snape had been a Death Eater in his youth; far fewer knew that Professor Snape was, in fact, a double agent, pretending to be loyal to Voldemort while feeding information on Voldemort and his minions to Dumbledore, who then acted on the information as necessary.  
  
_It's nearly nine right now,_ Snape thought. He wondered if he should hide Fidelis; he wasn't sure what Dumbledore would think of him, Severus-the-Former-Death-Eater-Snape, harboring a child's stuffed toy in plain sight.  
  
He was just about to pick up Fidelis and put him into a desk drawer when his office door flew open.   
  
Snape was immediately aware of two things. The first was that his visitor wasn't Dumbledore, but a rather scrubbish Death Eater of his acquaintance named Barr, Robert Barr. The second was that Barr had his wand out and was pointing it, with a none-too-steady hand, directly at Snape.  
  
"Hello, Snape, you traitorous git," Barr snarled, doing his level best to make his high-pitched voice sound menacing. He had Old Ogden's on his breath; he apparently had had to consume quite a bit of alcohol before he could nerve himself up to confronting Severus Snape.  
  
"Hello, Barr," Snape said calmly; he guessed that he could outmaneuver the stinking-drunk Barr, up to a point. _Where the hell is Dumbledore?_ he thought. "What are you blathering about now? And how did you get into the castle?"  
  
Barr's piggish little eye-slits gleamed with malice and inebriation. "That stupid fool Filch let me in," he squeaked joyfully. "I let him think I was Flitwick, then conked him on the head before he could find out his mistake. I'll be out of here well before he wakes up." He steadied himself against one of Snape's bookcases, his head swaying slightly. "I know you're a spy, Snape," he said, drunkenly advancing his short, potbellied figure towards the seated potions master. "I can prove it. And I'm going to go to Voldemort with that proof -- after I kill you!"   
  
Snape rose swiftly from his chair, grabbing Barr's wand hand by the wrist. "You're drunk, Barr," he said evenly. "Drunk and delusional. Why don't you go back to Knockturn Alley and try chatting up the slatterns there as you usually do this time of night?"  
  
Barr's response was to swing at Snape with his other hand. Snape ducked the blow, but was obliged to let go of Barr's wand hand.  
  
"Aha!" Barr cried in besotted triumph, pointing the wand. "Avada Kedavra!" he shouted. Snape dodged the green rush of death, but just barely; it landed squarely on his desk, enveloping Fidelis in a green glow. _Where is Dumbledore, dammit?_ he thought yet again, scuttling from side to side to keep Barr from getting a fix on him.  
  
Barr tried to back Snape into a corner. He lifted his wand, pointed it at the wandless Snape, opened his mouth to speak the curse that would kill Snape dead -- when suddenly, something leapt up from Snape's desk and bit off part of Robert Barr's tongue.  
  
Howling in pain, Barr dropped his wand and flailed ineffectually at the thing that was mauling his face. Just when he thought he'd grabbed hold of it, it leapt away.   
  
Barr was too distracted by the pain and gore from his many facial wounds to see a very small dog pick up his fallen wand in its mouth and trot over to Snape with it. He had just begun to regain control of himself when he heard Snape roar "STUPEFY!" That was the last that Barr would know for quite some time, until he would wake up to find himself in Azkaban.  
  
And so it was shortly thereafter that Professor Dumbledore came into Snape's office, and found a stunned and bloodied stranger-wizard lashed to a chair, while Severus Snape, the vicious, the cruel, the cold-hearted Severus Snape, was daintily cleaning the blood from the fur of a very small, very adorable puppy dog, cossetting and petting him as the dog disgustedly spat out bits of wizard flesh onto a towel.   
  
"Yes, yes, Fidelis; Death Eaters such as Barr certainly would leave a bad taste in anyone's mouth," Snape cooed as the tiny canine drank out of a small saucer of water set before him. The Potions master looked up to see Dumbledore looking at him with the oddest of expressions.  
  
"It seems you've had a most eventful evening, Severus," Dumbledore said, barely repressing a chuckle as he took a chair next to Snape's desk. "You'll have to tell me all about it."  
  
=========  
  
A crestfallen Hermione Granger followed Professor Snape to his office. She had really hoped that the anonymous gift of the Beanie Baby would have made Snape a touch more human. But here he was, still the same old imperious Snape, ordering her to his office with a look that brooked no denial.  
  
But something odd happened, just as they got to Snape's office door.  
  
"Granger," the professor said quietly, "is anyone else in the corridor?"  
  
"No, Sir."  
  
"Good." He then spoke the password and opened the door. Once Hermione was inside, he quickly shut and locked it. This was making Hermione feel very uneasy.  
  
Snape motioned for her to sit in one of the leather chairs facing his desk. Then, he slowly opened his desk drawer -- and a furry little puppy poked his head up over the top of Snape's desk.   
  
A furry little puppy that looked very familiar.  
  
"Miss Granger, I'd like you to meet my dog, Fidelis," said a smiling Professor Snape.  
  
====  
  
For those who want to know what Fidelis looks like, go here:  
  
(http://www.theturtletrail.com/ttt/pic/beanie/regal-l.gif)  
  
And remember, as Maurice Vachon says: "It is not the size of the dog in the fight, but the size of the fight in the dog, that matters."  
  
  
  
  



	2. A Mystery Solved

A Mystery Solved  
  
"I've never seen anything like it."  
  
"Amazing!"  
  
"Wonderful!"  
  
"Can it be duplicated?"  
  
"That's what we're trying to find out, Miss Granger."  
  
Several persons were gathered in Headmaster Albus Dumbledore's office, crowded closely around his desk. The object of their attentions was a very small, very winsome, and very intelligent King Charles spaniel puppy, whose master, Professor Severus Snape, had given him the name of "Fidelis".  
  
Fidelis began his existence as a humble Muggle toy, a "Beanie Baby" given to Professor Snape as a gift by Hermione Granger. But somehow, in the course of an assault on Snape's life, a spell meant to kill Snape had instead not only failed to kill the potions master, but given life to a heretofore lifeless object.  
  
At the moment, the former inanimate object was now licking Fizzing Whizzbee residue from Hermione's fingers, eliciting some giggles from Hermione.  
  
Suddenly, Hermione's face darkened. She looked at the assembled gathering.  
  
"I hate to mention this," she said hesitantly, "...but doesn't Fidelis' existence violate the 1965 Ban on Experimental Breeding?"  
  
Dumbledore smiled at her from behind his half-moon spectacles. "Not really, Hermione. You see, the ban specifically is targeted against the breeding of new magical species, and Fidelis here is sui generis, one of a kind; I very much doubt we will see another like him. He was not created through breeding, for one thing; for another, he has no 'Fidelia' with whom he can breed, even assuming he matures into an adult dog."  
  
"What, exactly, happened that night, Severus?" Professor McGonagall asked, putting a hand out to gently scratch Fidelis behind the ears.  
  
"I was sitting at my desk, waiting to meet Dumbledore, when suddenly Robert Barr, a wizard of my acquaintance, bursts into the room, howling for my blood." Snape chose to leave out the exact reason why Barr was after him; some of the persons in the office didn't need to know that, just yet. "Barr attempted to hit me with the Killing Curse, but missed and hit Fidelis instead. The next thing I knew, Fidelis had not only come alive, but was treating Barr's face like a chew toy -- a fact for which I am forever grateful." Snape's sallow, hollow-cheeked face took on some warmth as he gazed fondly at his dog.  
  
McGonagall pushed her hat farther back onto her head, to keep it from falling onto the desk and Fidelis. "Has this ever happened before with the Avada Kedavra curse, I wonder?"  
  
"Not to my knowledge," said a wheezy Professor Binns, his ghostly figure gently illuminating the room. "I have searched throughout the whole of Madam Pince's collections and not found a single tome which records a similar instance."  
  
"Then perhaps it is one of those things which cannot be duplicated," Snape mused, his sharp black eyes still fixed on the miniature puppy. "Barr was, to the best of my recollection, not the most accurate of spell-casters. Perhaps he made a slight error in his casting, one that would be unique to him." Snape smiled thinly. "But in any event, Barr won't be casting any more spells, ever again."  
  
Dumbledore turned to Harry and Ron, who were standing next to Hermione. "You two knew of Hermione's plan to give the Beanie Baby to Professor Snape," he said, giving them a sweeping, penetrating look. Did either of you perform any magic on it, or around it?"  
  
"No, we didn't, I'm sure of it," Harry replied. "And we were the only two persons, besides Hermione, who knew what she was up to."  
  
"Wait a minute," said Ron. His face had suddenly turned as red as his hair. "Fred and George saw it just as Hermione pulled it out of her haversack to show it to us for the first time."  
  
Dumbledore's snowy-white eyebrows went up. "Ah. I see."  
  
"It'd be just like those guys to put some sort of jokey charm on it," Ron continued. "Especially if they knew it was going to -- a teacher."  
  
Dumbledore turned to ask McGonagall to pass the word for the Weasley twins, but she was already out the door.  
  
=============  
  
"Bah! Nasty Weasleys'll get what's coming to them, just you wait!", cried an angry, gyrating Peeves, to the cheers and laughs of the assembled crowd.  
  
"Oh, really, Peeves? Do tell?" Fred said, yawning in a show of exaggerated unconcern, which made the crowd laugh even harder.  
  
Fred and George had lured the poltergeist into a Dancing Trap just in front of the entrance to the Gryffindor common room. Peeves was now forced to do a Highland Fling indefinitely, circling the same spot over and over, until such time as the spell wore off, or Fred or George removed it. And that they certainly would not do; their minds were too full of memories of vicious tricks played by Peeves ever to let him get off that easily. Besides, with Peeves occupied in this manner, he wasn't able to harrass anyone, thereby making it much easier to navigate the halls of Hogwarts unimpeded.  
  
The crowd, filled with students and ghosts alike who had all suffered indignities at Peeves' non-corporeal hands, convulsed in uncontrollable laughter. They were at last getting a little of their own back, and it was glorious.  
  
"You can't say you didn't bring this on yourself, Peeves," said a guffawing Nearly Headless Nick, his head wobbling with each laugh.  
  
"Ahem."  
  
A tall figure stepped into view; it was Professor McGonagall, and she was wearing one of her sternest expressions. The crowd fell silent.  
  
"Fred -- George -- come with me. Now."  
  
"But Professor --"  
  
"Now."  
  
Professor McGonagall swept around, and the Weasley twins trudged along behind her. Peeves' shouts suddenly reverberated behind them: "HAHAHAHAHA! I told you! I TOLD you!"  
  
  
  
They moved, swiftly and silently, through the corridors of Hogwarts. Fred and George knew better than to try to talk to McGonagall; her face was as grim as ever they had seen it, with small red spots of what looked to be rage high on her cheeks.  
  
At last they arrived at the entrance to Dumbledore's office. "Whoopee cushion," spoke McGonagall crisply, and the gargoyles swung aside to admit her and the Weasley twins into Dumbledore's inner sanctum.  
  
"Ah," said a delighted Dumbledore; his eyes twinkled mischieviously behind his half-moon glasses. "You certainly do move quite quickly, Minerva. Come over here, gentlemen," he said to the twins. "We have a few questions to ask you."  
  
=======  
  
"You put a Loyalty Charm on the toy?" Dumbledore's nostrils twitched in amusement.  
  
"Erm, yes, sir." Fred scuffed his feet, trying not to feel too self- conscious in the presence of so many teachers, all of whom were eyeing him and George with the most intense scrutiny. "I thought it was just as well that the little thing should be a good dog and obey whoever became its master, even if it wasn't alive." And even if its master was Snape, Fred thought but carefully did not say.  
  
"And I put a Lifelike Charm on it, too -- or at least, I thought I had," George volunteered. Like Fred, he was now red-faced with embarrassment and apprehension. He didn't want to think of how many points he and Fred had just lost for Gryffindor. "It didn't seem to work when I tried it, sir."  
  
"Oh, my." Dumbledore was having a difficult time trying not to laugh. He rose from his desk, carrying Fidelis in the palm of one hand, and handed the little dog over to Snape. "Well, as I don't think any of us will ever use those spells in combination, especially with the Avada Kedavra, ever again, I think it safe to say that we need not fear any other sudden vivifications. You are free to go."  
  
Fred and George each let out deep sighs, and gratefully turned to leave.  
  
But before they could do so, Snape's voice rang out: "Before you go, Fred and George....", he said in his nastiest voice.  
  
"Yes, sir?" Here it comes, they thought. Dread squeezed their stomachs.  
  
Snape's face broke into a wide smile. "Fifty points for Gryffindor, for each of you." 


	3. Canis Minor, Canis Major

(Standard disclaimer: JK Rowling owns everything but Fidelis and the plot, such as it is. The story takes place in Harry's fifth year, in the fall of 1995. CC)  
  
  
**Canis Minor, Canis Major  
**  
  
  
Professor Dumbledore sat at his ornate desk, his long beard brushing the top thereof, and smiled at Professor Snape. "It's been a very interesting and rewarding day, hasn't it, Severus?", he said.  
  
"Indeed it has been, Headmaster."  
  
The two of them were, aside from Fidelis, alone in Dumbledore's office. The other participants in the meeting had long since left, but Snape and his pet had lingered.  
  
It had been decided by the small gathering of select teachers and students, that in order to preserve the Potions master's outward reputation as a nasty, the fifty points each awarded to Fred and George Weasley would be given "for special services to the school". That would be the official story, and the faculty members present -- Binns, McGonagall, Dumbledore and Snape -- would all hold to it when questioned. The unofficial story, as told by the Weasleys, Harry and Hermione, would be that Fred and George were really being rewarded for doing something no one besides the Bloody Baron had ever been able to do: control Peeves.  
  
Either story would be preferable to letting the Slytherins, too many of whom were junior Death Eaters, know the truth: either that a group of Gryffindors had, by giving Snape a gift, inadvertently saved his life, or that Snape had actually rewarded the Gryffindors in question by giving them house points.   
  
"Layers within layers," Dumbledore said aloud, uncannily echoing Snape's own thoughts. "I think it would prove profitable to take the events of the day and examine them in the Pensieve," said Dumbledore, rising to his feet. "If you would permit me, Severus?"  
  
"But of course, Headmaster."  
  
The two of them crossed over to the cabinet where Dumbledore's Pensieve was stored. Dumbledore opened the cabinet and retrieved the liquid-filled bowl, then tipped his wand to his head, pulling out the silvery strands that were the magically-tangible records of his thoughts and memories of the meeting that had just occurred.  
  
For some time, both men gazed into the waters of the Pensieve, studying different parts of the meeting; Snape was particularly interested in any clue that might indicate whether Fred and George Weasley had told the whole truth when they said that they had only cast two spells on Fidelis.   
  
But at length, both Dumbledore and Snape decided they had gleaned what they could, and Dumbledore once again closed the cabinet door upon the Pensieve.  
  
Neither of them realized that a pair of small puppy-dog eyes had been watching, with intense fascination, their every move.  
  
=====  
  
With a sigh of relief, Severus Snape shut the doors to his chambers. Everything had been resolved to everyone's satisfaction, and he was able to pay off a debt of honor to the Weasley twins without arousing suspicions from the Slytherins.  
  
For the Slytherins' ears, Professor Snape had decided that he would officially describe Fidelis as an unauthorized magical dog confiscated from that wretched little Gryffindor rule-breaker, Hermione Granger. Snape smiled his standard thin, bitter smile. Of course it would never occur to most Slytherins that Granger never really broke many rules at all; they would just be glad to see her taken down a peg, and his reputation as being tough on all Gryffindors would be upheld.  
  
He set Fidelis down by Fidelis' small bed, improvised out of sheets from Snape's own bed, after first making sure that a fresh set of _Daily Prophets_ had been laid on the floor; Fidelis, being a puppy after all, could not sleep straight through the night without needing to relieve himself somewhere. Snape would have let the small dog be with him in the big bed, but he was afraid that he might accidentally crush Fidelis by rolling onto him in his sleep. Severus Snape tended to toss and turn a great deal, as he fought off the monsters, human and otherwise, he encountered in his dreams.  
  
"Nox," he said, after both he and his dog were both tucked away for the night, and the candles extinguished themselves.  
  
"Good night, Fidelis." He stifled a yawn.  
  
"Rrriiifff!"  
  
Professor Snape generally did not find it easy to fall straight asleep. That night, he was snoring within fifteen minutes of his head hitting the pillow.   
  
And for the first time in many, many years, his sleep was free of monsters.  
  
=====================  
  
Fidelis was awake long after his master had fallen asleep. There was so much to see, he thought as he lay curled up in his bed. So many new friends to meet, so many fascinating byways to explore. Sleep? Sleep was impossible, not with so much of the wide world still unexplored.   
  
The room where his master's own wonderful old master, Dumbledore, lived -- that was an interesting room, all sunlit and multicolored. And that large bowl of water was intriguing. He was used to the idea of drinking _from_ bowls of water; putting things _into_ bowls of water was another matter entirely. And putting one's _thoughts_ into water, so that one could see them, was another matter yet.  
  
Fidelis twitched uneasily. He didn't want to betray his master's trust in him. Yet the vision of that large bowl of water was too strong a lure, and eventually won out.  
  
Well, thought Fidelis, Master didn't actually _tell_ me to stay in my bed tonight. And if I'm back before sunrise, he'll never know I was gone. Now if I can remember the way...  
  
==================  
  
  
Fidelis padded silently through the halls of Hogwarts, his eyes peering through the gloom.  
  
He hated to admit it, but he was now thoroughly lost. He had given up on finding Dumbledore's office and was now trying to retrace his footsteps back to his master's chambers. If only those staircases would stay put...  
  
Ah, he thought, seeing a familiar stone-walled corridor, at last I am nearing my master's rooms! Just behind the door there...  
  
Fidelis nudged the door open and bounded happily over the threshold.   
  
It wasn't until he was well beyond it, and the door shut firmly and irrtrievably behind him, that he realized he had somehow gone outside the castle.  
  
===============  
  
Sirius Black, in dog form, chewed a Norway rat almost absentmindedly as he pondered his situation.  
  
Tonight, he had tried one spectacular gambit to bring Peter Pettigrew into his clutches. But the lure hadn't worked. There was no Wormtail to meet him, here near the Whomping Willow. Pettigrew had somehow seen through the plan.  
  
A small rustle from behind him interrupted his thoughts. He turned around in a flash, spitting the rat out as he moved, and lightly yet firmly trapped the rustling creature between his front paws. Got you, Peter! he thought triumphantly.  
  
But when Sirius opened his paws to look at his prize, he saw that it was not Peter Pettigrew in his rat form, but in fact a very small, bramble-covered, and very tired King Charles spaniel puppy.  
  
Sirius was so astonished that he resumed his human form, just so he could pick up the wee thing in his hands. The puppy, too cold and tired to be startled at his transformation, gratefully licked his fingers as he read the small heart-shaped tag attached to its left ear.   
  
In all his life, Sirius had never seen a dog this small, nor one with a paper tag attached to its left ear. "A magical dog, I see -- and one that began life as a Muggle toy," Sirius said aloud; he had traveled enough in the Muggle world to recognize the Ty Beanie Baby tag.  
  
He noticed that the tag had been coated with a clear, waterproof substance, but not before someone had crossed out the word "Regal" and substituted "Fidelis" in a thin, spidery hand.   
  
"So your name is Fidelis," he said, smiling down at the small puppy dog, whose tail was now wagging as fast as a Snitch's wings fluttered. "You're a cute little thing. Who is your master, Fidelis?" asked Sirius, though he didn't really expect the dog to answer him.  
  
However, he was mistaken, for immediately Fidelis piped up, in a high-pitched puppy voice: "Snnnnaaaappe!"  
_  
"Whaaatt!?_" Sirius barked, then looked at the little dog and frowned. "So you can talk!"  
  
"Riiifffff!" replied Fidelis, for he had not known he could talk, himself, until just now.  
  
"And Severus _Snape_ is your master?"   
  
"Rrrrriffff!", barked Fidelis, his tail wagging ever-faster.  
  
Sirius was thunderstruck. "How did _that_ come about?!?!"  
  
"Rrressent!", answered Fidelis, his brown eyes shining.  
  
"You were a present given to him?"  
  
"Rrrriifff!"  
  
"By whom?"  
  
"Rrrranger!"  
  
Sirius was puzzled for a moment; then it hit him. "Hermione Granger?"  
  
"Rrrriiffff!", replied Fidelis, his tail wagging.  
  
"Ah, that at least makes some sense," replied Sirius, scratching Fidelis under his chin. "I can easily see Hermione giving Snape a gift such as you." He stroked the little dog's fur, gently pulling out the brambles. "What are you doing out here?"  
  
"Waaaooooost!", cried Fidelis, his brown puppy eyes suddenly moist.  
  
"You got lost?"  
  
"Rrrriffff!"  
  
"Would you like to go home?"  
  
"RRRRIIIFFF!"  
  
"Then come with me, little friend. There must be some hope for that slimy git yet, if he can have a dog like you for a pet."   
  
Sirius carefully placed the tiny canine on the nape of his neck. Fidelis understood what Sirius wanted him to do, and gripped it tight, even after Sirius resumed his dog-shape. They bounded over the moonlit grounds together, entering the secret tunnel, and into Hogwarts castle.  
  
And so it was that, when Severus Snape awoke later that morning, he found his dog safely tucked into his own doggie-bed, just as he had left him, and was none the wiser.  



	4. Dog and Detective

(As always, pretty near everything here, with the exception of Fidelis, Miss Butterworth, the plot and the firm wherefrom Snape owl-orders Fidelis' new collar, belongs to Jo Rowling. Sylvanus Snape is my alternate name for a character created by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle (who also created Toby). Fidelis will be signing pawtographs in the lobby. CC)  
  
The package arrived by owl post one fine fall morning.  
  
Professor Severus Snape looked up from his customary breakfast of cold, runny porridge to see a brown barn owl floating toward his table. A small package, wrapped in brown paper, was held securely in its talons. He put out his hand, and the owl dropped the package in his palm, then swooped away without checking its flight.  
  
The head of Slytherin House glanced at the package just long enough to make out the return address, then pocketed it and returned to his porridge. But if anyone had chanced to see him at that moment, they would have seen the most absurdly cheerful of smiles lighting up, if only for a moment, his normally bitter face.  
  
His rather meagre breakfast finished, Professor Snape made his way to his chambers. It took a real effort of will to keep from breaking into a dead run, but somehow he managed it.  
  
He entered his sombre chambers, his eyes shining, and was immediately greeted by the joyful barks of his pet dog, his companion, the thing that made his life worth living.  
  
"I have a present for you, Fidelis," he said as Fidelis leapt into his arms, licking his face with happy puppy abandon. "Here," he said, setting both small dog and small package on top of the heavy oaken table in the middle of his parlour, "you open it."  
  
Fidelis tore into the thick wrapping paper with all his tiny might, and the tabletop was soon littered with fine strips of brown confetti. Snape brushed away the debris, and a box was revealed. The label on the box lid read:  
  


SNARFUS and MEROWTH  
Fine Custom Goods for the Magical Pet  
Since 1683  


  
Fidelis tugged at the string holding shut the box, and managed to remove it. Then, tail wagging, he nudged off the lid with his nose and pulled the box onto its side, spilling its velvet-wrapped contents onto the tabletop with a soft _thunk._  
  
Snape's breath hissed between his teeth as he saw the object for the first time. "Oh, Fidelis," he cried, picking it up and holding it to the light, "it's even better than I imagined it would be."  
  
In his hand lay a small, perfectly worked woven-gold dog collar, magically treated to fit comfortably and lightly about the neck. At the clasp, a small golden oval tag read:  
  


**FIDELIS**  
I belong to Severus Snape  
Hogwarts Professor  
Abuse me at your peril  
  


  
Fidelis' tail wagged briskly as his master placed the collar about the little dog's neck.  
  
"Is it too heavy, Fidelis?" Snape asked, studying how it fitted. Fidelis shook his furry head in the negative, and jumped about joyfully to show his delight.  
  
"Good," said Professor Snape, a broad smile lighting his thin, sharp face.  
  
Next there was some few minutes' work with Severing Charms, which painlessly removed both the cloth and paper tags placed on Fidelis at the Beanie Baby factory. When Snape was done, he had in front of him a perfect living miniature King Charles spaniel puppy, whose extremely small size was the only remaining visible hint to his inanimate Muggle origins.   
  
Snape had barely finished putting the Ty tags in the collar box when there was a soft tap-tap on his door. He opened it, and a largish screech owl flew in, bearing an envelope. He took the envelope in his long, thin fingers and his broad smile became even broader when he recognized the handwriting thereon.   
  
"This is from my Great-Uncle Sylvanus, the best of all my relations," he said, addressing his pet, who was looking at him with the strictest attention stamped on his tiny features. "He's the white sheep of the family. He went off to seek his fame in the Muggle world as the world's first and greatest consulting detective. He taught me everything I know about potion making, and much else besides. If it wasn't for him, I'd probably be a full-fledged Death Eater -- or dead." He sliced open the envelope with the claw from a kappa, and pulled out the letter inside.  
  
"Ah! My great-uncle is coming to visit, Fidelis. He has to drop off some of his royal jelly longevity preparation with Dumbledore and McGonagall, and he wanted to check up on me." He folded the letter and replaced in the envelope. "It's been a long time since I've seen the old fellow. I can't wait to see his face when he meets you."  
  
=====  
  
Professor Snape had not long to wait. The potions master had just finished with his morning classes when he encountered Dumbledore and his great-uncle standing outside his office door.  
  
"Great-Uncle!"  
  
"And how is my favorite grand-nephew?" Sylvanus Snape replied, his face shining with delight. He embraced his younger kin heartily as a beaming Dumbledore looked on.  
  
"Let me look at you, my boy," the older Snape said, gripping the potions master by the shoulders and studying him with a keen eye. "Ah, you need to eat a better diet, Severus," he lightly chaffed. "You're altogether too thin."  
  
"So sayeth the man who could double for a hat rack," responded Professor Snape in kind.   
  
And in truth, both men were quite tall and thin. The family resemblance also showed in that they both possessed the largish Snape nose and the high, hollow Snape cheeks, but there were subtle differences between great-uncle and grand-nephew. For one thing, the older man, instead of black eyes, had fine slate-grey ones that glimmered and shone. For another, the lines of his face were far more numerous, and betokened a man who was far more accustomed to cheerfulness than was his younger kinsman. And, of course, Sylvanus Snape's hair was not black and sleek, like his great-nephew's, but a smoky, wavy grey. But then, Sylvanus Snape was one hundred and fifty-one years of age; even his longevity medicine could not totally halt the aging process.  
  
Severus broke free of his great-uncle's strong, friendly grip. He spoke the password, then opened his office door with a flourish. "Come into my inner sanctum, gentlemen," he said grandly.  
  
The elder Mr. Snape took in the room and all its furnishings in one sweeping glance -- and then was stopped in his tracks by the sight of a very small spaniel puppy leaping into his grand-nephew's arms.  
  
"Well, I'm blest!", Sylvanus Snape cried with pleasure. "I always thought you should have a dog, Severus. And such a fine, wee puppy!" He reached out a hand for the tiny puppy to sniff, which Fidelis did happily. Then Sylvanus read the tag on the puppy's collar. "'Fidelis', eh? A good name for a good dog. Thinking of making a tracker out of him, Severus?"  
  
Professor Snape frowned in thought. "I hadn't considered that, Great-Uncle," he said, gently handing Fidelis into Sylvanus Snape's waiting arms. "But he already has shown himself to be a dog of mettle," he continued, quickly relating the story of Barr's visit and Fidelis' spirited defense of his master.  
  
The elder Snape was delighted. "Bit off that blackguard's tongue, did you?" he chortled, scratching Fidelis' neck as the tiny puppy nestled contentedly in his folded arms. "Good dog!" He handed Fidelis back to his grand-nephew. "I've a mind to see how he performs at distinguishing scents. It would be grand if he could be as good at that as was dear old Toby."  
  
Suddenly, their conversation was interrupted by a voice coming from Snape's fireplace, a voice belonging to Professor McGonagall. "Albus! We have to meet in your office!", she cried.  
  
Dumbledore's face took on a sober cast. "What is it, Minerva?", turning to see her distraught face in the fire.  
  
"Becky Butterworth has been taken away -- kidnapped!", she said, her voice rising. "She was just heading into the Great Hall for luncheon when she disappeared without a trace!"  
  
"I'll be right there, Minerva," Dumbledore said. He pulled out some Floo Powder and was about to throw it into the fireplace -- then stopped.  
  
"Gentlemen," he said, addressing both Snapes, "would you both like to accompany me? This is definitely what used to be your line of country, Sylvanus, before you retired and rejoined the wizarding world lo these many decades ago."  
  
The elder Snape grinned ruefully. "I was just about to ask your permission to do so, Albus," he said. He turned to his grand-nephew. "Bring Fidelis along, Severus. I have a feeling he may turn out to be useful."  
  
========  
  
"...and she disappeared without a trace!" finished Professor McGonagall.  
  
"I see," said Sylvanus Snape, puffing away lightly at his favorite Dunhill. A thin blue tobacco haze filled Dumbledore's office, making the headmaster's eyes water, but he was not about to tell the most famous consulting detective ever born to snuff out his pipe. "Does Miss Butterworth have any known enemies?"  
  
"No," answered McGonagall, coughing slightly. "None whatsoever."  
  
"No fellow Hufflepuffs likely to a pull a prank on her?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Hmmmm," replied the elder Snape abstractedly. At length he pulled his pipe from his mouth and tipped the dottle into an ashtray on Dumbledore's desk. "We shall repair to the scene of the crime and see what evidence remains there. We cannot make bricks without clay."  
  
And with that, the great detective swept towards the door, with everyone else following closely behind.  
  
======  
  
A crowd of students, most of them teary-eyed Hufflepuffs, were at the entrance to the Great Hall when Sylvanus Snape arrived with the professors in tow.  
  
"Ah," he said, surveying the area with a wide sweep of his head, "I feel a strong pull here. Someone, not Miss Butterworth, was using very strong magic indeed. She definitely didn't plan to disappear herself." An intuition struck him. "Severus, if you would hand me your dog, if you please."  
  
The potions master handed Fidelis over to his great-uncle.  
  
"Thank you, Severus. Now, Fidelis," he said, as he held the small dog up high, moving him about in a wide circle, "can you detect anything?"  
  
"Riiffff! Riiiffff! Riiiffff!", Fidelis responded, very agitated.  
  
Then, before the detective could say anything further, Fidelis did something rather odd.   
  
As he sat in Sylvanus Snape's cupped hands, the tiny canine placed a paw to his forehead, then put it down again. He kept repeating the motion, then looked at Dumbledore and Severus Snape to see if they understood.  
  
"The Pensieve," Severus Snape said at last. "He must have seen us using it the other day, Headmaster."  
  
"Indeed he did, Severus," Dumbledore replied, his eyes glinting. "He wants to use the Pensieve to show us what he sees."  
  
Fidelis barked in the affirmative, wagging his tail.  
  
The elder Snape smiled. "I thought this might be the case, gentlemen," he said as he gathered Fidelis to his chest. "Let us do as Fidelis wishes and put his visions into the Pensieve."  
  
=============  
  
Upon examining Fidelis' visions in the Pensieve, it was found that Miss Butterworth had been kidnapped by some Death Eaters who wanted to bring her as a prize to Voldemort. However, they had not transported her to his presence, so -- thanks to Fidelis' exact pinpointing of their location -- they were apprehended without a fight and promptly packed off to Azkaban. Miss Butterworth was returned, unharmed, to Hogwarts.  
  
"How did you know that Fidelis could find Miss Butterworth, Great-Uncle?", asked Severus Snape, petting his magical puppy. Both Snapes, as well as Professor McGonagall, were with Dumbledore in his office once again, dissecting the affair.  
  
"Ah, it was a bow drawn at a venture, my boy," the detective smiled through wreaths of tobacco smoke as he sat in a leather armchair. "But I recall that spaniels of all sorts tend to be highly sensitive animals. They can spot ghosts and astral creatures, and other magical creatures, with ease. I suspected that a dog as quick as Fidelis would be exquisitely sensitive to magical forces, and it turned out that I was right."  
  
Sylvanus Snape rose from his armchair. "Well, it has truly been a memorable day, but I must be getting back to the Downs. The bees fret without me." He turned to his great-nephew and smiled. "I'm glad to see you're in good hands, Severus," he said, gazing fondly at him and his pet. "Or should I say paws?"  
  
"Riiiiffff!"


	5. Semper Fidelis

Semper Fidelis  
  
  
  
"Good boy. Gooooood boy. Stay. Staaaaay....."   
  
Severus Snape, Head of Slytherin house, Potions master of Hogwarts, and the most feared professor on the Hogwarts staff, was teaching his new dog an old trick.   
  
Fidelis was sitting, all a-tremble, on the Potions master's desk. Professor Snape had placed a small, warm, fragrant, freshly-cooked piece of bacon on Fidelis' tiny muzzle, right above his small black nose, and the former Beanie Baby was going cross-eyed as he stared longingly at it.   
  
But the master had not yet given his permission....   
  
At last, just as thin slivers of drool were running out the sides of Fidelis' mouth, Snape gave a silent, quick nod. Fidelis, in response, threw up his head, tossing the bacon into the air and catching it in his mouth as it fell in one quick motion, his miniscule jaws snapping it up with a sharp _smack!_  
  
"Good dog! _Gooood dog!_" Snape rewarded his pet with another piece of bacon, watching fondly as Fidelis inhaled the tasty treat.   
  
"Ahem," coughed a voice coming from the fireplace. "May I come in?"  
  
"Good morning, Headmaster," Snape said, turning around to face the disembodied head, eyes twinkling merrily behind gold half-moon spectacles, in the dancing flames of his office hearth. "Come in, come in. What brings you here today?"  
  
The head suddenly acquired a body, and Dumbledore stepped out of the fireplace, lightly brushing off ash from his shoulders.   
  
"Hallowe'en is fast approaching, Severus, as you well know," said the headmaster as he settled into the most comfortable of the available chairs in Snape's office. He extended a long, thin, wrinkled hand to Fidelis, who happily leaned into it, letting Dumbledore gently scratch him behind the ears. "Since the events of last year, no one has had the heart, or stomach, to plan any kind of extensive, year-long programme that might remind the students unduly of the Triwizard Tournament."  
  
Snape nodded, his shoulder-length greasy black hair gleaming as he did so. "Indeed."  
  
"However," Dumbledore continued as Fidelis shook his right hind leg by the headmaster's hand, making an ecstatic puppy pantomime of scratching himself, "It has been decided that some sort of function should be attempted, as a way to boost the spirits of everyone, students and staff."  
  
"I see." Snape's voice, which had been relatively warm and friendly-sounding -- for him, anyway -- suddenly acquired a slight chilliness. "What do you have in mind?"  
  
If Dumbledore had detected the change in Snape's attitude, he certainly gave no sign of it. "A Costume Ball, of course," he said cheerily.   
  
"And you need someone to flush the students out of the rosebushes, of course," said Snape resignedly.  
  
"Take Fidelis with you," replied Dumbledore smoothly as he gently scratched the tiny dog under the chin. "He'll be able to sniff out the students well before even your own nose can find them."  
  
  
=====  
  
  
The sounds of merriment issued forth from the Great Hall, making their way outside of Hogwarts castle and onto the school grounds. But Severus Snape was not heeding those sounds.   
  
Instead, he and his dog were out looking and listening (and, most importantly, sniffing) for other things.  
  
Professor Snape stalked the grounds and gardens, hiding and moving silently in the shadows like a giant ill-humoured bat, tall, black-robed, menacing, with a sniffing, peering Fidelis gamely perched on his shoulder, indicating with a slight tightening of his grip when he had smelled out yet another hidden couple in the rosebushes.   
  
It amazed Snape how these paired-off sixth- and seventh-years could delude themselves into thinking that mere shrubbery could conceal them. Even the ones who tried to use magical means of concealment never bothered with anything more than Invisibility and Inaudibility spells, while at the same time usually wearing, in the case of the females, perfume so strong it could be detected by a Muggle with a head cold at twenty paces.  
  
You're not making this very difficult at all, he thought with grim amusement as he surprised yet another couple with a sudden blast from his wand, sending them scurrying back to the castle in a shower of leaves and rose petals. "Ten points from Ravenclaw, Mr. Donovan! And ten points from Gryffindor, Miss Mackintosh!" he called after them.  
  
And so it went for the rest of the evening: another set of trembling rosebushes, another confirming sniff from Fidelis, another set of yelps and shrieks.   
  
At least two couples, having been warned by the blasts, were smart enough to flee their rosebushes before he could catch them. He turned his wand towards them, preparing to cast the Full-Body-Bind spell, when suddenly Fidelis, who was looking behind Snape, dug his tiny claws into Snape's shoulder.  
  
"What is it, boy?" Snape whispered, his body tense.  
  
"Ree-hind you," Fidelis hissed in his high, sibilant puppy voice. He could speak, after a fashion, but human speech was difficult for him; he didn't talk unless it was absolutely necessary, and certainly not as much as he was doing now. "Smellsss Rrrrong. Not stuudenttt, not teacherrr..." A slight pause. "Human, but strangerrrr... not ffffriendly."  
  
Severus Snape took a second to digest that bit of information. "Is it moving?"  
  
"Nnnot yet. Isss crrouching. Innn rrrosebush -- not mmmovinggg." Then, before Snape could turn around:   
  
"Sssstay, masterrr, _ssstay!_" urged Fidelis, his puppy tongue stumbling on the words. "Wwwait beforrre using wwwand. Waaaaittttt...." With all his miniscule might, Fidelis pushed his claws into Snape's shoulder.   
  
Snape did as he was bid.   
  
Seconds passed, seconds that seemed like hours, while the Potions master waited for his dog to give the word. But, at last, Fidelis whispered "_Rrnnow_!"  
  
Snape whirled around and pointed his wand at a strangely motionless rosebush, shouting "_Stupefy!_" A bright flash issued from the wand, surrounding the bush -- and a rather large, unsavory-looking human pitched forward and fell face first onto the grass.  
  
"Philip Graham," said Professor Snape to no one in particular. "I thought you were still in Azkaban. Well, you'll be back there soon enough. _Mobilicorpus!_"  
  
Eyes closed, Graham's beefy body slowly rose to its feet.   
  
"Forward, march!" commanded Snape, pointing to the entrance to the dungeons. Graham's unconscious form shuffled slowly along, with Snape alongside ready to hex him if necessary.   
  
"Rrrooood masterrrr, _Rrreeery rrrooood!_ Rrrrrooood masterrrr!" yelped Fidelis. He then contentedly curled up on Snape's shoulder, but not before giving him a lick on the ear.  
Snape chuckled dryly, and reached up his free hand to give his little pet a friendly scratching.  
  
They hadn't gone very far when a pair of students, male and female, and whose robes had telltale bits of rose-leaves sticking to them, ran up alongside Snape. It was Jeanette Foley and Paul Fletcher, both of them seventh-year Ravenclaws, and their eyes goggled as they saw the intruder.  
  
"Are you all right, Professor?" said Jeanette, somewhat out of breath; they had been nearly inside the Great Hall when they heard Snape shout the Stunning Spell. "Is there anything we can do?"  
  
"Quite all right, as you can see, Miss Foley, though a touch preoccupied," replied Snape acidly. "However, if you really wish to be useful, you can tell the headmaster that he needs to meet me in my office immediately."  
  
"Yes, sir," said the pair together, and darted back the way they had come, trailing rosebush leaves behind them.  
  
As Professor Snape prepared to resume escorting Graham back into the castle, he made a mental note to have the house-elves fix Fidelis a dish of their best smoked bacon.  



End file.
